


Remembered With Affection Thereafter

by ArcaneTrepidation



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Sass, except everything goes bonkers, so much sass from Mercy, trauma center basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 02:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11221851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcaneTrepidation/pseuds/ArcaneTrepidation
Summary: After a successful raid on a Talon-controlled location, Overwatch returns with the scientists they sought to rescue–as well as many wounded soldiers. But one patient stands out among all of them. Mercy answers the call, believing immediate care can still do something for her.Oneshot, written in 2 hours. 1701 words. Comfort/Character Study. General audiences.





	Remembered With Affection Thereafter

            Sirens rang out through the base. Doors busted open and swung back and forth as stretcher upon stretcher went through them. In every bed laid an Overwatch agent, bloodied from one wound or another. Shotgun shells, SMG rounds, chemical burns… the list went on. One bed, however, did not share the same triage tag the rest did. While the majority of the tags read “DELAYED” or “MINIMAL”, this one read “IMMEDIATE”. The stretcher departed from the group—into a large room with an operating table.

            “Doctor Ziegler.” A man followed the stretcher in. Blonde, with graying hair, and a gaunt face that held its expression with every word spoken.

            “Sir, you are not—“ The nurse attending the stretcher began to protest his entry to the OR, but he was cut off quickly.

            “Commander Morrison.” Doctor Ziegler replied, her voice muffled by the surgical mask she had just finished donning. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your non-sterile body in my operating room?”

            “This isn’t a time for games, Ziegler.”

            “As if it ever is. Get on with it.” Her eyebrows lowered, fingers clenching and unclenching. Her eyes darted to the covered body as the nurses began to place it on the operating table.

            “You should not be saving this person.”

            “I… I beg your pardon?” She let out a laugh, almost barking her question. “I do not understand.”

            “This is the enemy, Ziegler. She’s a member of Talon—and there’s no use for her. We got all the information and all the hostages we needed while we were there. It’s better for everyone if she stayed down.”

            “Well,” Doctor Ziegler replied, moving to stand over the body. “I am afraid that I cannot do that.”

            “Angela.”

            “Jack.”

            “Do you not understand what I’m saying?”

            “I understand perfectly well, Jack. You don’t seem to understand what _I_ am saying. What _I_ am saying is that when I became a doctor, I took an oath. I pledged my life to helping those in need—and whether she is the enemy or not, it is my job—no, my _duty_ —to attend to her. I suppose I shouldn’t expect any less from the man who refused to intervene during the Omnic Crisis _despite_ my urging, only to listen to a new recruit instead.”

            “Well.” Jack’s lip twitched into a brief snarl, his eyes averting sharply to the left. “You’d better get started then.”

            “ _Gladly_. As I was about to.” Angela huffed. “Scissors. We need to get this off of her… but it’s skintight. Dammit.” Her eyes narrowed as she leaned in, fingers carefully nudging the tip of the scissors beneath one of the looser parts of the woman’s clothing.

            “And one more thing.” Jack spoke up, back turned to Angela as he stood at the door.

            Angela nearly threw the scissors at him.

            “ _What_.”

            “Good luck. You’ll need it.” With a _woosh_ of the doors, he had finally left.

            “That’s the last of it.” Angela said, casting aside the sleek and stretchy material of the woman’s clothing. “How are her vitals?”

            “They’re incredibly low, Doctor Ziegler. Blood pressure, heartbeat, and breathing rates are all incredibly low. She’s entirely blue, and… I… I don’t think we’ve ever seen anything like this before!” The nurse who wheeled her in said.

            “Stay calm, we’ll get through this,” said Angela. “I cannot see any actual external wounds. Here, help me roll her.” As they turned her over, Angela’s eyes widened. “Nothing? This must be more serious than I thought.”

            “That’s why I marked her for immediate treatment. No matter what, I can’t find what’s wrong with her!”

            “Surely there must be something. Here, let’s check her heartbeat ourselves. Perhaps the equipment is malfunctioning.” Angela put her hand to the woman’s chest, and let out a soft gasp. “So cold… It must be a circulatory problem. But if it was a clogged artery, it wouldn’t be so spread out. It would have burst before getting to this point.”

            “What about a stroke?”

            “No, she would be long gone by now. It took you quite a bit to get here. I don’t think we’ll get any more answers without opening her up.”

            “I’ll prep the anesthesia. Er, I’ll get the anesthesiologist.”

            “No, we can’t. With her vitals like this, anesthesia may well kill her. We’ll have to operate without it. Let’s disinfect the area first.”

            A few wipes and a clean slice later, Angela propped the incision open. The nurse’s face contorted into horror, while Angela’s brow furrowed with worry.

            “This… what…” She leaned in. “The blood vessels are constricted. All of them. Every single one, with what looks like some sort of… cartilage?”

            “What’s wrong with her?!”

            “I don’t know!” Angela snapped. “I’m sorry. I just haven’t seen this before, it’s… so strange. What could cause this sort of condition?”

            “I have no idea. But we have to treat her, don’t we?”

            “I suppose so. Hand me a scalpel. We’ll find a way through it.”

            _Shnk._

            “Oh my. Forceps, please.”

            “Did you just break the scalpel?”

            “My mistake, I’m sure. Scalpel.”

            _Shnk._

            “Again?”

            “Another.”

            “Doctor Ziegler.”

            “Another!”

            _Shnk. Shnk. Shnk._

            “What is the _meaning_ of this?!” Angela stood straight, her shoulders tight. Her hands gripped the side of the table so tightly her gloves squeaked against the metal handles.

            “Ah…”

            “Oh, do _not_ tell me you are going to faint. You are my nurse! I need you!” said Angela.

            “That… wasn’t me.” The nurse replied, his eyes drifting down to the table.

            “Ah… _docteur_...” The blue woman’s eyes fluttered open, her pupils struggling to settle on Angela’s face.

            “Oh, oh dear. Oh dear, oh no.” Angela leaned in. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe, but you mustn’t move, okay? Go back to sleep now, just close your eyes and count to ten. You’re in good hands.”

            “ _Docteur_ … _Mon fils_...”

            “Your son? He’s going to be okay—you can see him again, but you must stay still.”

            “ _Mon fils… Je vais lui voir encore_ …” The woman whispered, and slowly laid her head down, eyes half-lidded and falling to the side.

            _Bip, bip… bip… bip…. bip… … … bip … beeeeeeeeeeeeeeee—_

“Clear!”

            “Doctor, what are—“

            _PSSSHHHT!_

“Clear!”

            “Doctor, that’s not going to—“

            _PSSSHHHT!_

            “ _Clear!_ ”

            “ANGELA!”

            “I…” Angela held the paddles firmly, her hands shaking and her shoulders heaving. “I can’t… I can’t, not after…”

            “Doctor Ziegler, she’s… she’s gone. There’s nothing more we can do. Just… stitch her up. It’s the least we can do.”

            Angela lowered the paddles into their cradles, breathing heavy.

            “You’re right. You’re right. I’ll just… close her up.”

            The operating room was silent for the rest of the operation, save for the small _shhhp, shhhp_ of Angela’s sutures. She wrapped her chest in bandages, trying to make her look presentable. The body was taken out of the room, wheeled to the morgue by the nurse. Angela sat down at her desk, changed out of her scrubs and alone with her thoughts in her quarters.

            She filled out the paperwork slowly. The name stayed blank. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want that name poisoning her thoughts, her very being—she didn’t want to think about all of the people she knew, whispering it between each other as they heard the news.

            _“This is the enemy, Ziegler.”_

            “But that didn’t mean…” Angela whispered to herself.

            _Woosh_. The door opened without another warning. A massive, hulking figure of a man stepped through.

            “Reinhardt! What, uh, what brings you here?” Angela frantically asked, snapping out of her moment.

            “I heard what you have done today, Angela.” Reinhardt walked past Angela, taking a seat on her bed. The springs creaked in protest. “And what you could not do.”

            “Oh… has it spread so quickly?” Angela’s grin fell, and she averted her eyes.

            “I understand that it must be hard to lose a patient. I, myself, have lost someone today. We all have. And it is something that will likely hang over us for a very long time.”

            “I’m so sorry, Reinhardt, I had no idea.”

            “She was the one who killed her.”

            “What?”

            “That woman. That… Amélie. She was the one who took Captain Amari’s life.”

            “Captain Amari is dead?!” Angela stood up, her chair rocketing backwards. “And I… I tried to…”

            “No. Angela, I came in here to tell you that what you did was honorable.”

            “Honorable…?”

            “It is something that… if I was in there, her life in my hands… I do not believe I would have had the strength to do. But you tried. You gave it your all, like you always do. Just like we all try to do. And sometimes… even that is not enough.” Reinhardt stood, putting a hand on Angela’s shoulder. “And that is something that we must learn to live with. Sometimes, we will fail.” His eyes drifted to the paperwork. “Sometimes, we will lose. But we will not always. And today does not have to be the day that we throw in the towel.” He gently pulled Angela in for an embrace. “Captain Amari would not appreciate it if we did.”

            “You’re right.” Angela sighed into his arm, her cheek pressed against his chest. The thumping heartbeat was a far cry from Amélie’s. Full of life and determination. Something that carried Reinhardt onwards—no matter the situation. She could feel some of that seep into herself. Something that was needed.

            “Thank you, Reinhardt. I understand.” Angela brought the chair back, sitting down, and began to fill out the paperwork once more.

            _Amélie Lacroix_ , it read. _Cause of death: Unknown cardiovascular disease_.

***

            A rendezvous under moonlight, the lights and security measures of the base disabled. The two would not be disturbed.

            On the left, a slender girl with hair that shone pink in the dark, her fingers like claws.

            “The files?”

            On the right, a tall blue woman wearing nothing but a hospital gown and bandages.

            “Here.”

            “Perfect. Everything we needed. And what about them?”

            A quiet, steady gaze back at the base. The lights begin to flicker back on, and the security systems reboot. The two take their leave quickly and quietly.

            “They will not be looking for me any longer.”

***

           

“…  If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and **remembered with affection thereafter**. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help. “

_-The Hippocratic Oath, modernized by Louis Lasanga of Tufts University_

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place during the time that Ana Amari was declared "dead". In this case, I decided to take a different route with the story, altering a few details. On the whole, the storyline remains the same. However, Widowmaker falls under Mercy's care as part of a covert and dishonest operation.  
> For those wondering, I have a headcanon that Widowmaker can stop her heart for a minute or two on command. That's how she "died", and subsequently survived.


End file.
